


Alone Again

by mbe



Series: To The Stars [2]
Category: Interstellar (2014)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Backstory, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 16:03:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 6,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18553102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mbe/pseuds/mbe
Summary: “You’re not—you’re not saying you think Dr. Mann had something to do with Cooper’s death?”In which Dr. Mann manages to escape the ice planet.Major Interstellar (2014) spoilers.





	1. Chapter 1

Mann had slept for 16 years, 5 months, and 6 days. It was a deep sleep, where you did not dream, nor have consciousness of the passage of time. Or, at least, you were not supposed to.

But every time that Mann had awakened from cryosleep, he had instantly been aware of how long he’d been gone. It is ingrained in our bodies—we are constantly aware, even without a clock, of time passing.

So when Mann felt himself suddenly snap out of the nothingness that was hypersleep, his vision blurred, his eyes attempting to focus on the distorted figure before him, he immediately recognized he’d been unconscious a very, very long time. And once the figure by his side sharpened into the image of another human being, it only amplified his horror—and relief.

He was no longer alone.

But it had been so long. Decades.

Mann grabbed the fellow astronaut’s face shakily, breaking into deep, heavy sobs, kissing the man’s face with a profound feeling of solace. His mind shaky, unable to make a coherent thought, Mann let tears come, as the astronaut held him tightly, soothingly, trying to reassure him.

After several minutes of this, Mann managed to compose himself, enough to speak. He looked at the man directly, and then turned his head around slowly, seeing two others: another man he didn’t recognize, and a woman. Amelia Brand.

_This was the next mission._ The mission to repopulate an exoplanet. They, NASA, had come.

Mann blinked, trying to find the words to speak. Finally, his voice breaking, he whispered, “Pray you never learn how good it can be to see another face.”


	2. Chapter 2

The three remaining Endurance crew members—Cooper, the ship’s pilot; Amelia, the crew’s biologist; Romilly, an astrophysicist; and twin robots CASE and TARS—had not set their hopes high upon landing on Everet Mann’s planet. They’d landed months earlier on Laura Miller’s planet to catastrophic results; they’d lost one of their crew members, and found Miller already dead. There was every chance in the world that Mann was just as lifeless as she’d been.

It was an enormous relief, therefore, to find the scientist alive, if not well, and able to tell them about this new world.

They’d been able to share some of their resources with him—Mann’s supply of food and oxygen had long been depleted—and attempted to gently press him for details of this planet.

Mann recognized the face of Amelia, the familiarity soothing to him. She’d barely aged; or did he just not remember how she had appeared all those years ago? Although he’d never met Romilly or Cooper, he couldn’t have cared less, so happy was he to see not one but three other people.

He eagerly, desperately wanted news of what he’d missed over the decades. What had happened to the other Lazarus astronauts? What became of the Earth? Had anyone found a new home for the human race? Mann dismissed that last question; if they had, they wouldn’t have come to his planet.

Mann recalled how he had essentially attempted suicide following another several years of fruitless waiting for a rescue that he’d slowly grown to accept would never happen: go to sleep, and never set a waking date. Never wake up. His survival instinct exhausted, dulled down in this final stage of the mission, he felt ready to die, accepting of the fact.

But it was not to be, and seeing the three astronauts’ faces in front of him reminded him of why he was here. The mission. It was about the mission—save humanity.

“What of the others?” Mann finally asked to no one in particular, wanting to know of the other Lazarus missions. He found having an engaging discussion difficult, the years of solitude having had a significant impact in his ability to respond normally to other humans.

“I’m afraid you’re it, sir,” Romilly answered slowly, reluctantly.

Mann felt his heart sink. “So far?” he asked hopefully, refusing to accept the reality of what he was being told.

“Given our current situation,” Cooper—the one who’d awakened him—began, “there’s not much hope of any other rescue. We had to choose between Edmunds’ planet, and yours; you were the one still signalling.”

Mann stared at Cooper blankly for a moment. He knew not to shoot the messenger—it wasn’t Cooper’s fault that there had been a slim to none chance of saving any of the Lazarus astronauts—but here Cooper was, telling him all of his colleagues were dead, and that there was nothing anyone could do about it.

He’d wanted his planet to be the one, but not to have his fellow astronauts left for dead.

 _You can’t have it all_ , Mann thought to himself as he fought back tears, the blow of Cooper’s words hitting him hard. He stared down at the tea the others had made for him, letting the steam warm his face.

Then he realised Amelia was speaking to him.

“Dr. Mann?” she asked, smiling warmly. “Tell us about your world.”

Mann had been dreading this question for years. He’d known very well that the day he was rescued—if it came—he’d be faced with the need to explain his planet to his rescuers. His data had shown promise, after all. That was why they’d come.

He wanted to be the hero, the one to save humanity, yet he knew his planet could not sustain life.

He looked at Amelia’s hopeful, almost giddy face. How could he tell her—and the others, for that matter—the truth? Suddenly, Mann was worried, anxiety filling his body. He remained silent for a moment before realising what he had to do, what to tell the others.

“Our world, I hope,” he began. “Our world…it is cold, stark, but undeniably beautiful.”

He stared outside of his window at the blustering snow, which was blowing gently for once. He smelled the air, tinged with the ever-present scent of ammonia, as he held tightly to his tea, the only source of heat on this entire godforsaken hell.

He hated this place. There was nothing beautiful about it, and he was not spending any more time than he had to here.

Dr. Mann was going to find a way out. And nothing was going to stop him.


	3. Chapter 3

Amelia Brand remembered Dr. Mann well, and had to admit that she’d missed his presence at NASA after his departure. He’d been absolutely brilliant, confident, and always ready to do anything if it meant helping the human race. She—and countless others—looked up to him. They placed their trust in him when he said that humanity’s future lay in the stars.

Perhaps it was that reason—the reassurance of knowing these dozen men and women were doing, according to Dr. Mann, the right thing—that it had been a bit, albeit barely, easier to let go of Wolf.

No one had known. No one could have, for that matter—Wolf would almost certainly been kicked out of the mission for having, as her father, Professor Brand, called it, ‘attachments’.

Amelia recalled the day before Wolf’s departure, how he’d spent the last bit of his money that he’d ever use on Earth on rarities such as oranges and bananas for her, foods she’d loved as a child but that had long since quadrupled in price and were a luxury in modern society. How they’d eaten them that evening as the sun set, looking out at the night slowly creeping, Amelia trying to comprehend the vastness of space, attempting to really understand how far Wolf was going to be from her.

“Space and time are remarkable, Amelia,” he’d told her, holding her close to his chest. “What seems like infinite distance is actually within our reach; what can seem like decades may only be hours in another galaxy.”

“You’ll be out of _my_ reach,” she’d mumbled, her voice breaking.

“Can you imagine if my planet were the one?” he’d asked aloud, ignoring her comment. “I’d see you again once your father perfected his equation.”

She’d forced a smile. “Yeah,” she’d allowed, knowing the chances of that were miniscule.

He’d kissed her softly, slowly, letting the moment last. Amelia had found herself counting the kisses they shared that last day, never wanting to forget a single one, the taste of his lips, how gently he leaned in to embrace her. “You’ll be there tomorrow, right?” Wolf had asked, and she’d known what he meant: would she be there at the launch? To witness his first—and last—departure from this planet?

She’d nodded, biting her lip. “Of course.”

That night, when Wolf was asleep, Amelia—unable to rest—had gotten up and walked over to the window to stare at the sky yet again. She thought about all of the worlds out there, waiting to be explored. How Wolf would soon be on one of those worlds.

Wolf had had his doubts about this mission, and Dr. Mann had reassured him that they were better up there than down here. Wolf had accepted that, and Amelia was forever grateful for Dr. Mann’s assurance; she knew it helped Wolf cope with leaving this planet.

 _Dr. Mann_ , she’d thought as she stared out at the stars, _I hope to God you’re right about this._

 

Amelia remembered that Dr. Mann had been a relatively stocky, healthy guy before he’d left Earth. His thoughts had been rapid yet coherent; one after the other, connected, and more often than not related to the Lazarus Missions. He’d seemed so fearless, ambitious.

Now here he was, on this barren world, paled by the lack of sunlight, his sentences abrupt and frequently trailing off. He’d lost considerable weight, and if he was trying to appear in control, his eyes, full of sorrow and hunger for human companionship, betrayed him.

This was not the Dr. Mann that Amelia remembered, but what had she expected? Isolation could—and would—destroy even, as her father had often referred to Dr. Mann as, ‘the best of us’.

Amelia hadn’t wanted to be here. After a disastrous landing on Miller’s planet, covered entirely by enormous tidal waves, she’d made her case—or at least attempted to—as to why the crew should go to Edmunds’ planet; Wolf’s world, even if his beacon—the one telling NASA that his planet was favourable for human life—had not been signalling for the past three years.

She’d wanted to see him desperately. She had absolutely refused to look at another man; not with the possibility of ever being with Wolf again. She’d always known—or hoped?—to be reunited with him.

And Cooper had taken that possibility off of the table. Those words, “Set a course for Dr. Mann,” had broken her. She knew there would only be enough fuel to head to Edmunds or Earth if Dr. Mann’s planet was as inhospitable as Miller’s, and it would be a gamble to choose where to head to next.

Yet here Dr. Mann was, telling the Endurance crew what they wanted to hear: there was a surface, where there was oxygen; there were organics. There could be life—human life. There would be no need to choose between Earth and Edmunds.

But that also meant there would be no need to go to Wolf’s planet.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a very quick, abridged rehashing of the "You knew, didn't you?" scene in Interstellar. I figured if you're reading this fic, you've probably seen the movie, and don't need the exact screenplay described all over again.

“Dr. Brand,” TARS said, “CASE is relaying a message for you from Earth.”

“Oh, okay,” she replied, walking towards the rectangular bot.

On the screen appeared the fact of a woman Amelia’s own age, red hair, pained expression. She saw the resemblance between this woman and Cooper almost instantly. “Is that--?”

“Murph,” Cooper breathed his daughter’s name, as though the sight of his now-grown little girl had knocked the air out of his lungs. Amelia knew that he’d left her devastated and angry by his departure into space, and she could certainly understand that. How many times had she felt angry with Wolf for leaving? In time, she’d grown to accept it as best she could, respecting Wolf’s choice; he’d left everything behind with the intention of saving the human race. Amelia hoped Murph would eventually come to think the same way.

But why was she calling _her_?

“I’m sorry to tell you that your father passed away today,” Murph began. “He had no pain, and he was at peace.”

Amelia felt her face fall, and Cooper—who had initially walked closer to CASE’s screen to catch a glimpse at his daughter—turned to comfort her. “Brand,” he sympathized, “I’m so—.”

“You knew, didn’t you?” Murph nearly shouted, her tone switching from pained to angry. “That Plan A was a sham. That there’s no hope of rescue.

“Did my dad know?” she continued, and Amelia could hear her agony in her voice. “Did he leave me here to die?”

Murph began to cry. “I just have to know,” she sobbed, covering her face with her hands, and there the message ended.

Amelia stared at the black screen, trying to make sense of what Cooper’s daughter was telling her. Why would Murph think that Plan A—save those on Earth using Professor Brand’s gravity equation— would be false? He’d worked his whole life on that thing.

“Cooper, my father worked for decades on that equation, I have no idea what she’s talking about,” Amelia told him, shaking her head in disbelief. Cooper appeared to be trying to make sense of Murph’s words as well, and had no reply.

After a moment of confused and bewildered silence, Amelia heard Dr. Mann’s voice break the tortured quiet. “I do,” he said.

 

Mann had known when he was leaving that there was no hope of saving anyone remaining on Earth, and that the only hope of the human race continuing was Plan B—the colonization of a hospitable planet by means of fertilized and incubated embryos, whilst leaving the humans on Earth to die.

Mann also knew the simple, psychological fact that, without attachments back home, it was difficult to feel anything for those stuck back on his home planet. And after decades without a single human to interact with, he found it equally as difficult to understand the anguished and seething Cooper before him.

“So…Professor Brand never hoped to get people off the Earth?” he asked, slowly coming to that realisation.

Mann shook his head. “No,” he replied flatly, his face displaying no emotion; this seemed to enrage Cooper even more.

“But he’s been trying to solve that equation for forty years!” Bran protested, now visibly upset by her father’s lies.

“Amelia,” Mann began, his tone more sympathetic now, “your father solved his equation before I even left.”

“Then why wouldn’t he use it?”

“The equation couldn’t reconcile gravity with quantum mechanics. You need more,” Mann explained robotically, bluntly.

“More? More what?” Cooper shouted at the scientist, walking towards him. Mann remained unfazed by Cooper’s anger.

“More data,” he replied simply. “You need to see inside a black hole, and the laws of physics prohibit a naked singularity.”

“Romilly,” Cooper asked, turning to the astrophysicist, “is that true?”

“If a black hole is an oyster, then the singularity is the pearl inside,” Romilly explained, clearly dazed by the news just as much as his fellow crew members. “Its gravity is so strong, that it’s always hidden in the darkness. That’s why we call it a black hole.”

“Your father had to come up with a new way to save the human race: Plan B, a colony. He knew people wouldn’t work together to save the species unless they thought they would gain something, Amelia; he was prepared to destroy his own humanity for the sake of the species,” Mann said, trying to get the others to see it his way. “He made an incredible sacrifice…”

“No, the sacrifice is being made by the people on Earth, who are gonna die,” Cooper cried, clearly angered by Mann’s words, “because in his fucking arrogance, he declared their case hopeless.”

For once, Mann was taken aback by Cooper’s outburst. Why couldn’t he see if in a logical perspective? You couldn’t see inside a black hole; you couldn’t save those on Earth. The only way to save the species was a colony on a new planet.

Just not this one.

“I’m sorry, Cooper,” Mann sighed, trying to give an air of empathy, “their case is hopeless.”

Cooper turned his back to Mann, to look at Brand’s tear-stained face. “Cooper,” she said softly, “what can I do?”

“Let me go home,” he replied immediately.

 _No!_ Mann shouted in his mind. If Cooper left…how would they head to Edmunds? How would they survive here? But more importantly…how would they leave this world?

In that split second, Mann knew what he had to do. Cooper had to be out of the equation.

And on a world as lethal as Mann’s, that wouldn’t be too difficult.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternate ending content begins here!
> 
> Comments and feedback are appreciated.

It was decided that, before leaving, Cooper would help Mann set up a site for the module containing the incubated embryos, and two more sites for habitat, once those embryos grew into children; Amelia would stay near Mann’s compound to unload cargo from the Ranger they’d flown in here on. It had also been decided that Cooper, on his way home, would drop TARS into the black hole nearby—Gargantua—with the hopes TARS could uncover previously unknown data, perhaps even solving Professor Brand’s gravity equation, and transmit it. But for that, Romilly would need to remove components of Mann’s robot, KIPP, for TARS to use.

Mann had felt his heart race when Romilly had brought up the idea of disturbing the long-since dismantled KIPP; he’d decommissioned the robot years ago, and installed a self-destruct mechanism if anyone went looking for the true data stored on him. Mann didn’t want to lose another companion, and he knew quite well what the consequences could be if Romilly went playing into KIPP’s archives. Eventually he relented; all Romilly needed were a couple of components, right? Surely that wouldn’t activate the…security mechanism.

Mann hadn’t wanted to go with Cooper. He didn’t want to execute his plan; here was an opportunity to do it, and he didn’t want it. But then Mann remembered the nights he was unable to sleep, terrified and tortured by the solitude and the sound of the brutal wind outside, and the thought of spending another night here was too much for him.

It had to be done.

But that didn’t mean he had to feel good about it.

Mann decided to take Cooper to the probe site; that was at least a good kilometer or two from here, which not only placed him far away from Romilly and Brand, but also gave him a chance to wrack his mind for how he was going to actually kill Cooper. He didn’t want to surprise him completely; as illogical as Cooper was, Mann could certainly empathize with his desire to be with other people. He had a right to be braced for what was coming.

“Cooper,” Mann began, “do you know what research tells you will be the last thing you see before you die?”

Cooper had no response for the scientist, and seemed slightly unsettled by Mann’s choice of conversation topic.

“Your children!” Mann told him, as though it had been obvious. “Their faces! At the moment of death, your mind pushes a little harder to survive, for them. That’s the beauty of the human survival instinct; your mind will do anything to live.”

Cooper still said nothing; Mann guessed he was still disturbed by the conversation. After an extended, uncomfortable silence, the two men reached a cliff. Mann remembered this area well; it was where KIPP had informed him, in no uncertain terms, of this planet’s lack of habitability. It was where Mann had become determined to do whatever it took to see another human being again, to leave his place. It seemed a fitting location to do what he had to do.

“You know what?” Mann said, staring out at the frozen clouds below. “When I left Earth, I was fully prepared to die. But…” he shook his head sadly. “…I never accepted the possibility that my planet wouldn’t be the one.

“Nothing turned out how it was supposed to,” he went on, looking at a confused Cooper. His voice turned to barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry.”

Mann reached out to touch Cooper’s neck, grabbed his transmitter from his spacesuit and snapped it in half, tossing the pieces over the cliff.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” exclaimed Cooper, motioning towards the bottom of the cliff, where the pieces of the transmitter lay. “Are you—?”

Mann took that opportunity to grab Cooper’s arm and shove him down the cliff, where he tumbled several feet down before managing to grab on to a chunk of ice. Mann said nothing, his mind blank except for one thing: _get off this planet, and do what you must._

He began to crawl down the cliff, using his studded boot to make his way down carefully, until he reached Cooper’s helmet. He kicked it several times, trying to break it, but managed only to fracture it.

“I need that ship to complete the mission!” Mann cried as Cooper tried in vain to grab onto Mann’s leg. He managed to get a hold of the scientist’s boot and pull him down, making both men fall downhill until they finally reached a flat surface. Cooper was eventually able to stand up.

“You faked all that data,” Cooper demanded, more of a statement than a question.

“Yes,” Mann finally admitted, “yes.”

“Because you knew someone would come save you.”

“Yes.”

“You fucking coward,” Cooper growled, breathing heavily after his fight to stabilize himself on the icy surface.

“Yes,” Mann repeated, Cooper’s words stinging him, one of the few instances in the past 24 hours he’d felt any form of emotion. Was it cowardice to not want to die alone? Light years from home? On some strange, lethal rock, after years of solitude?

Cooper’s words angered Mann enough to give him energy to stand up and walk towards the pilot, close enough to push him down again. However, Cooper took that chance to grab Mann’s arm and the two men fell on top of one another, each trying to fight the other off.

Eventually Cooper pinned Mann down and looked him straight in the eye. “Stop it!” he yelled, as if reprimanding a child who had misbehaved. Mann stared blankly ahead, thinking only of the best way to get the upper hand on the astronaut. He moved his neck slightly and realized he could touch Cooper’s helmet with his own.

Mann began smashing his helmet into Cooper’s, which was already chipped from Mann’s earlier assault. “No!” Cooper cried. “Stop it! Dr. Mann, there’s a fifty-fifty chance you’re gonna kill yourself!”

Mann stopped and thought about it for a moment. Cooper’s words were very true; his helmet could break first. But it was also true that Mann’s chances of survival were far higher now than they had been in decades. What did he have to lose, really, at this point?

“Those are the best odds I’ve had in years,” Mann declared, almost smugly, before giving Cooper’s helmet one final smack.

It cracked open instantly, and Mann knew that ammonia and chlorine were rushing into Cooper’s body as he tried to cover the broken faceplate with his glove.

His work done, Mann rose to his feet, planning to walk back to Brand and tell her of Cooper’s ‘accidental’ fall. But he just couldn’t take his eyes from the dying, choking astronaut. “Remember when I talked to you about our survival instinct?” Mann said, although Cooper’s response was only violent gasping for air. “That’s what drove me. It drives all of us. And it’s what’s going to save the human race. I’m going to save it. For you, Cooper. I’m sorry.”

Mann began to walk away from the astronaut, but he felt no remorse or regret. Just a feeling of exhilaration at the now renowned possibility of getting off this planet.

“Please don’t judge me, Cooper,” Mann told him as he left. “You’ve never been tested as I was. Few men have been.”

And with that he removed his transmitter and threw it beside Cooper, who was still struggling to breathe.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello it is me who cannot write drama/action to save my soul.
> 
> Comments are appreciated.

Amelia had understood the risks of the mission when she’d left, but had been reassured by her father—and his gravity equation—that there was indeed hope for those on Earth. A colony wasn’t absolutely necessary. She wasn’t left with as many attachments as Cooper—who had two kids—so what hurt her most wasn’t the now inevitable death of billions, but rather her father’s life-long lie.

 _Did he not trust me?_ she wondered as she unloaded more of the ship’s cargo onto Dr. Mann’s planet. Then again, what would telling anyone have achieved? It likely would have been harder for Wolf to leave her, knowing well he was leaving her to die on this planet.

A sudden surge of wind made her fall, and she sighed. Wolf’s planet had seemed so promising, data-wise. Dr. Mann’s…well, Dr. Mann’s may have been able to sustain life, but it was certainly cold. And dark. She pondered whether Wolf’s planet would have been any warmer, then instantly pushed the thought out of her head. She was here, on Mann, and had to focus on the task in front of her. There was no reason to think of what might’ve been.

“Brand!” she suddenly heard, disbanding her thoughts. She turned and saw Dr. Mann struggling up a hill nearby.

“Dr. Mann?” She began walking towards him, confused and, at the same time, worried. After that incident on Miller, she’d told herself to brace for anything.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s Cooper,” Dr. Mann panted, pointing out into the distance. “He fell, he broke his faceplate!”

He tried to catch his breath. “There’s too much ammonia there to breathe, you’ve got to—.”

 _Why didn’t you call me on your transmitter?_ Amelia wondered briefly as she jumped into the nearby Ranger. “Get in!” she ordered Mann. “Where? Where is he?”

She ran over to the front seat, getting CASE to take the controls. Dr. Mann joined her and pointed out of the window towards the left. “Over there,” he said, and the ship turned.

Amelia began desperately trying to reach Cooper via transmitter. “Cooper? Do you hear me? Cooper?”

“Fuck!” Dr. Mann suddenly shouted, slamming his fist on the wall of the ship, startling and unsettling Amelia. “I must’ve knocked his transmitter off when I went to grab him!”

“Well, where was yours?” she shouted back, now irritated and seriously concerned for Cooper’s safety.

“I fell down there too, and I—I think it got knocked off on the way down.”

Amelia didn’t respond. Instead, she stared out in vain at the black and white landscape, trying to find the pilot.

“Over there more,” Dr. Mann said, pointing over to a cratered section of the ice.

“Okay, okay, I see him!”

CASE landed the ship hastily, and Amelia grabbed an oxygen mask from the ship’s emergency compartment before running out to help the astronaut, lying motionless on the snow.

“Cooper? Can you hear me? Cooper?” she shouted frantically, fumbling to remove his faceplate and place the mask on his pale, lifeless face.

Dr. Mann caught up to her. “It’s my fault,” he cried. “I shouldn’t have tried to grab him; we could’ve radioed for help—.”

“Help me get him into the ship,” Amelia ordered, attempting to lift Cooper to his feet, to no avail.

Dr. Mann obeyed, dragging Cooper’s limp body into the Ranger. He and Amelia laid him down on the floor as CASE moved towards the three astronauts. “Cooper,” Amelia cried, trying to shake him awake, “wake up. Come on! Wake up, goddammit!”

CASE extended one of his rectangular extremities and held it above Cooper, moving it gently above his body. He then retracted it and turned towards Amelia. “I am sorry,” he said, almost monotonously. “There is nothing I can do for him.”

“No,” Amelia sobbed, kneeling before Cooper. “No. Come on, Cooper. Come on!”

“Dr. Brand,” CASE said, “from my readings, he has been deceased for approximately fourteen minutes from lack of oxygen.”

“God-fucking-dammit!” Amelia yelled, getting up and leaving Dr. Mann sitting beside Cooper’s body. She walked over to the Ranger’s window, vaguely making out the second Ranger in the distance; the one Cooper would have used to go home, to his kids.

And she couldn’t even send a message to Murph to tell her that her own father was dead.

Amelia bit her lip, trying to fight back tears. The mission had had risks, yes, and there had been every chance in the world that people would get hurt—or worse. Cooper had known this. But he’d always seemed so sturdy; invincible, always ready to put caution aside if it meant saving those on Earth—including his kids. He’d led the Endurance crew through a wormhole; he’d piloted their ship through kilometre-high waves.

And a fall and a fractured helmet had been his downfall?

It just didn’t make sense.


	7. Chapter 7

The following day, Amelia, Dr. Mann and Romilly buried Cooper’s body, as best they could in the icy terrain, a makeshift memorial of sorts.

Once the other two men had left to tend to the remaining cargo, Amelia had stayed behind, staring at the nametag they’d removed from the astronaut’s spacesuit and gently laid on a block of ice above his grave. _COOPER_ , it read simply. He had been their pilot, the one who had gotten them this far. For that, she was, and forever would be, grateful.

But in the back of her mind, she just couldn’t shake the thought of _what if?_ What if they had gone to Wolf’s planet? The data had been better than Dr. Mann’s; would Cooper have survived a broken faceplate? Would he have even broken it to begin with?

And would Wolf even be alive to greet them?

Amelia wanted, no, _needed_ to know.

As she turned and headed back to Dr. Mann’s compound, she heard Romilly’s voice speaking to her through her transmitter. “Dr. Brand?” he asked, sounding concerned. “I’m having an issue with KIPP.”

“You’re still working on that?” Amelia asked. With Cooper dead, there would be no need to send TARS into Gargantua; she, Dr. Mann, and Romilly would remain here, setting up the human colony.

“Well, not really,” Romilly replied, “but while I _was_ working on KIPP, it required human authorization. That’s where I left off yesterday.

“Out of curiosity, I finished the boot-up today. Doing that brought up data…and, well, the data doesn’t go with what Dr. Mann’s telling us. I want to access the archival functions, but Dr. Mann said not to.”

Amelia stopped in her tracks. “What—what do you mean?”

“To be honest, I’m not sure,” Romilly confessed, sounding confused. “It’s telling me this planet’s uninhabitable—no life.”

“I’ll be right there,” Brand told him, rushing to the compound, her fears—and now suspicions—about Dr. Mann already growing.


	8. Chapter 8

Mann was outside and beginning to bring cargo and supplies into his compound when he saw Amelia running inside. His first instinct was to assume the worst: Romilly had still been messing around with KIPP. If he’d tried to go into those archives…Mann didn’t want to think about that. But what if he’d found the data—the _actual_ data?

Suddenly, Amelia’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Dr. Mann?” she asked, via radio. “Can you come take a look at KIPP for a minute?”

His heart raced, already thinking about what Amelia and Romilly would do once they discovered the truth. Desert him? Maybe even kill him, if they found out he’d done the same to Cooper?

Mann hesitantly walked into the compound. When he entered he saw both Romilly and Amelia there, staring at him intently, expectantly.

“Is…is everything okay?” Mann asked slowly.

“Well, that’s the thing…I don’t know,” Romilly began. “It’s just…well, this data makes no sense.” He pointed to KIPP’s illuminated screen, readings of Mann’s planet neatly typed out.

“Of course the data doesn’t make sense,” Mann sighed, exasperated. “I told you, KIPP hadn’t been functioning properly for some time. Why do you think I shut him down?”

“Well, then how did you recognize signs of life?” Amelia demanded.

“I’m a scientist, Dr. Brand,” Mann replied harshly. “I know what to look for.”

“How? You can’t tell what’s what on this fucking block of ice!” she said, her voice agitated and raising with every word.

“Are you accusing me of lying?” Mann nearly shouted. The stress of trying to keep the truth under wraps was getting to him; years of isolation didn’t help his level of tension either. “Because if you’re not happy, feel free to go back home.”

For a moment, Mann thought she was going to say something else. She opened her mouth to speak, but then stopped herself. “I—I’m sorry,” she finally said, her voice barely audible. “I guess…I’m just a bit shaken by…what’s happened.”

Mann felt a feeling of composure rush over him, and he regretted shouting at her. He had not been happy to kill Cooper, but he realised, only now, that he had not thought about how it would upset the other two astronauts. Romilly seemed to be holding up well, but Amelia…

“Should we continue setting up habitat?” she asked eventually, any trace of agitation erased from her face.

Mann paused for a minute. He could just agree to this to buy himself some more time, but where would be the point? He would waste resources here, when he could use them more efficiently on Edmunds’ planet. He’d wanted to wait a while before suggesting heading there to avoid raising suspicion, to keep from appearing insensitive, but with Amelia already beginning to want the mission executed here, he knew he could wait no longer. He may not have been as familiar with human communication as he’d been years past, but he was a scientist; some things stayed with you your entire life.

He knew how to use evidence to convince another person.

“Dr. Brand,” Mann said, his voice delicate yet persuasive, “you’ve told me about Edmunds’ data.”

Shocked, she nodded, clearly unsure of where this was going.

“And you said it was positive—better than mine, even, right?”

“Yes, Cooper had wanted to—.”

“So why did you come here?”

Amelia pursed her lips. “Well, Cooper had been reluctant to head over to Edmunds, since he was no longer sending a signal.”

Mann didn’t reply, and turned his gaze to the window. “Edmunds’ planet, last I checked, had significantly better data, despite his lack of a beacon.” He turned to look at Brand. “With things the way they are…why don’t we take a chance there?”

“Are you saying you want to leave this planet and go to Edmunds?” Amelia asked, incredulously. “But—the conditions for life…”

“…Are here,” Mann finished, “but I am saying that they may be better on Edmunds. And that Cooper made the wrong decision.”

Amelia looked at Mann in disbelief. “With all due respect, Dr. Mann, I think knowing we can support life here is good enough. Why take another chance?”

Mann walked closer to her. “I know you loved him, Amelia. Everyone did. You could tell by the way he looked at you on his very last day on Earth,” he said softly.

Amelia opened her mouth to protest, but then closed it, biting her lip. She turned away, but Mann could see her nodding gently, tears filling her eyes. “CASE,” she finally said to the robot nearby, “set a course for Edmunds. We’ll leave tomorrow.”


	9. Chapter 9

Amelia stared out from Dr. Mann’s compound as he and TARS began to reload the Ranger that brought her, Romilly, and Cooper to this world. She felt no pain leaving it—but, surprisingly, no excitement either. She wasn’t sure why, but something about Dr. Mann—his words, his actions after Cooper’s death—made her uncomfortable.

“Dr. Brand?” she heard Romilly calling her from the door of the compound. “We’re almost ready to go. You set?”

She shook her head in response. “Romilly,” she said, “did you…did you find anything unusual about Dr. Mann’s story? Of how Cooper died?”

Romilly frowned, walking towards her. “What do you mean?”

“Well…how he lost both transmitters, for instance,” she explained. “What are the odds of that? And the data being locked out…and his insistence we leave here to go to Edmunds right afterwards…it just—.”

“You’re not—you’re not saying you think Dr. Mann had something to do with Cooper’s death?” Romilly finally asked, clearly never having considered that the ‘remarkable’ Dr. Mann, as her father had called him, could have killed another human being.

Amelia recalled the last time she’d seen Dr. Mann before he’d left Earth. He’d walked proudly towards his ship, shaking hands with a line of colleagues and acquaintances. When he’d come to her, however, he’d taken her hand, looked her in the eye, and smiled. “I hope to see you soon, Amelia,” he’d said. “It sure will be quiet without your quick wit.” And with that, he’d leaned in to kiss her, quickly, gently, on the cheek, before proceeding down the rest of the line. That had been out of character for him already; it was not like Dr. Mann to express emotion. He had always been a more logic-driven type of person. That in itself was already a sign that the mission had begun changing him, reshaping the type of man he was and would be in the coming years.

Now, she stood watching Dr. Mann from his compound window. He and TARS were nearly finished reloading the Ranger. Soon she would be as close to Wolf as she had been in decades. That’s what she’d wanted, right?

So why did she feel only dread?

Was it because she didn’t want to see him again in such suspicious circumstances?

Amelia had aspired to be like Dr. Mann. He’d always been so…easy to read. He knew what he wanted and would do anything to make that happen. She also knew that the time on this planet had changed him deeply, starting with that kiss on the day of his departure, and ending…

…With Cooper’s murder?

“Yes,” Amelia finally answered Romilly. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”


End file.
